It was obvious he could have merged with another firm. Any would have given him anything he wanted. He could have also gradually scaled down the practice without any financial penalty to himself or the two women, letting the other attorneys compete for the clients he’d given up. He had, instead, gone out of his way to bring me in.
One reason he was so respected was that he never pulled his punches. If you didn’t want an honest answer, you didn’t ask. Nevertheless, I had to know, so I stuck my neck out one evening.
“Why me?”
He smiled. “Curiosity. I’ve always felt that a life is simply a road with tollbooths along the way. Eventually you reach one where you can’t meet the price, so you’re shunted to a side road. Or you continue until you reach one where you consider the price too steep. Either way, each of us determines how far we go.”
“And you want to see where I get off.”
He smiled again. “If I live that long.”
He’d never turned down a client because of ability to pay, so not all his clients could be termed fat cats. No client was more important than another, but the huge retainer said that if one had to occupy that position, it would be Ian Farr.
Farr owned the steel mill — lock, stock, and barrel — which made him twice as wealthy as the next man on the list. And wealth equates with power.
I first met him while having lunch with Tobias. He was about ten years older than I was — I’d floundered around for four before deciding I wanted to be a lawyer — a solid two hundred twenty pounds on a five ten frame, thick-necked, square-faced, with a powerful handshake and eyes that evaluated and dismissed me in seconds, which didn’t bother me at all. I’d run into many of his clones in school. They came from monied families and had assured futures, dismissing you as destined for drawing up wills for people whose assets were a house and one CD.
Handled exclusively by Tobias, but the day would come when Tobias would say, he’s yours to have and to hold. If you can. Having seen the retainer, I sure as hell wanted to. Having met him, I was equally sure I didn’t. Arrogance had always irritated the hell out of me.
After he’d gone, Tobias said, “Not a very pleasant man. Takes getting used to.”
I didn’t say I thought that day would never come for me.
But a small town has a very structured society where dislikes and even hate are concealed by smiles, and Tobias’s presence at any social function was mandatory, whether the hostess liked him or not. As his associate and eventual successor, I fell into the same category, which made “better-look-this-guy-and-his-wife-over” invitations equally mandatory. A hostess always likes to know how far away to seat you at some future dinner party.
That was why Judy, Matthew, and I pulled up in front of the Farr home one warm fall afternoon. Just as some invitations were necessary in the interest of communal harmony, so was their acceptance.
The house was a two story fieldstone; wings and a columned portico with wide steps had been added to the original square box, the driveway circling around a small grove of trees. You’d have to drive a long way to find another as fine.
A maid led us through a polished hallway to a flagstone patio, complete with furniture, that overlooked the river. A tailored lawn sloped to a carefully planned and structured garden of blooming fall flowers. Below, the river sparkled in the sun as it split around a fingerlike island where the brilliance of autumn color dappled the green of the pines.
The introductions were naturally pleasant.
Rachel Farr was slender and long-legged, had honey colored hair pulled close around her head, darker eyebrows, an oval face, a slant to her blue eyes, a slightly Roman curve to her nose, and somewhat thin lips, all perched on a long, graceful neck.
She was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen.
The warmth in her eyes and the sincere welcome in her voice said she was nothing like her husband. Her family had been in the valley long before the Farrs crossed the mountains. Some people who had reason to be arrogant weren’t.
She brought over a girl perhaps six months younger than Matthew, who would undoubtedly grow up to be at least as beautiful as her mother.
“This is Alyssa,” she said, positioning her before Matthew. Alyssa regarded him stolidly for a moment before punching him in the chest.
Matthew hadn’t yet forgotten the lessons learned in a public playground. He pushed her, dumping her on the seat of her pants.
Judy’s voice was soft but full of menace. “Ma-a-a-thew!”
Alyssa didn’t cry. She sat looking up at Matthew. He toddled around behind her, clasped his hands around her chest, and hauled her to her feet. Hand in hand they took off toward the miniature playground at the side.
“Looks like love at first sight,” said Rachel dryly.
Ian’s face said she was the only Farr who thought so.
The wives strolled off to look at the garden. If any relationship developed here, it would be one in which the wives were friends but the husbands only tolerated each other.
Farr thrust a drink in my hand.
“Beautiful view,” I said.
He lifted his glass toward the island. “Except for that. Or I should say, what’s on it.”
I couldn’t see anything on it except trees. I said so.
“Tobias hasn’t told you? I’m not surprised. I count it as one of his failures. A man named Henry Morrow owns it. I want him off Tobias says it can’t be done. Legally, that is.”
“Then he’s probably right. Why do you want Morrow off?”
“Because that goddamn trumpet he plays irritates me.”
Henry Morrow must have one helluva pair of lungs, I thought. “That island is what — a half mile away?”
He handed me a pair of field glasses.
Focusing them on the island, I picked up a rowboat pulled up on shore and tied to a tree.
“He rows over,” he said.
“Why in the world would he want to do that?”
“To serenade my wife.”
I was beginning to be amused. I glanced up at the house to see if there was a balcony.
“A trumpet is hardly the instrument of choice for a romantic serenade.”
“You’ve never heard him play,” he muttered.
“Well, trumpet or not, it’s a problem that can be solved easily. He comes over onto your property—”
“Tobias got an order barring him from my side of the river. Morrow ignores it.”
“And you and Tobias let him get away with that?”
He refilled his glass almost angrily. “There are other considerations. Let Tobias tell you what they are.”
“Well, contrary to growing opinion, the law can’t solve every problem. How does Rachel feel about the serenading?”
He hesitated as if reluctant to reveal a family disagreement. “She considers it entertaining. Flattering to a woman, I suppose.”
The trumpet as an instrument of romance still intrigued me. “What does he play?”
“Nothing anyone would recognize.”
I almost smiled. “This is some sort of test, isn’t it?”
“In a way. Since neither of us has an answer, we thought you might.”
I did smile. “All right. I’ll talk to Tobias. In the meantime you can use ear plugs.”
“It isn’t funny,” he said coldly.